


A Lot Left Unsaid

by iox



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, But theyre coping, Canon Trans Character, Everything Hurts, Gen, Mental Health Issues, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Platonic Relationships, Sibling Love, Touch-Starved, ish, theyre siblings!!!, touch avoidance, watch me work through my own issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 03:09:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iox/pseuds/iox
Summary: Taako's contradictions





	A Lot Left Unsaid

Taako tentatively grasped his sleeping sister's wrist, the crimson cotton fabric under his fingertips a shield from his touch - as if to touch was to break the spell, for her atoms to separate and her body to disintegrate into sparks and flames. That was a fear of the mind, a deep and invading concept of her potential inexistence that wound around his nightmares and tangled his thoughts. But for his skin, it was another story. His left hand on her wrist, the other hovering over her bare hand - the actions of someone unseen are the most revealing - and couldn't bring himself to let it fold over hers. Like some disturbed mirror image, two identical limbs at a perpendicular angle, unable to touch. He despised how his skin felt unpure, tainted, at the idea that the hand _was_ solid, did exist, and was so near his own. Revulsion. Repulsion. He drew his hand back.

It was so easy now, to imagine the time where he held that hand without hesitation. Following his memory back of his sister, clearing out the static with her as his lifeline - they had learnt their strength was within their clasped hands. Too far apart and they couldn't reach each other, not in time; together, their combined budding magic already could overcome almost everything in their path. But there was so much more too, and Taako concentrated on weeding out the true memories, hidden behind falsities his brain had woven when confronted with so many gaps, gaps in everything, gaps within his heart. 

He curled back into a fetal position and closed his eyes, finding a soft memory he could meditate on - one that would dispel his haunting uneasiness from the dream he awoke from minutes previous - and steadied his breathing to fall into a trance. The memory was a haze of warmth, among a time where they were often so cold. Stumbling across a gnome village was the greatest thing that happened in weeks, as the young elves had trekked across a barren mountain range for ages in an attempt to reach the forest their grandfather's farm resided within. Starving, having eaten the last of their rations the day before, they had stumbled in front of the burrow and were quickly invited inside with nary a look at the grime or stress that was displayed over their skin and cautious eyes. They were told they could stay as long as they wished, but it went unsaid that everyone knew it couldn't be long. Most of the burrow was too small and claustrophobic for the twins, and they could tell from the hollow cheeks, no matter how genuine their smiles were, that there was barely enough produce in the mountains to feed the villagers. Despite this, they were graciously given an elven portion of food and the largest room, one that held empty crates, dusty gems in woven baskets (quickly gone missing) and ratty blankets, and were provided with a large metal tub full of hot water. It was large for a halfling at least, and they were advised that the water would cool quickly and then left to their privacy - having arrived in the eerily silent morning, in which everyone was asleep. It was quickly decided to share the tub. It wasn't something they had never done before. Hot water is rare when travelling alone, one of many reasons why they didn't go alone when they had any other option, so it was always better to make the most of what was available. 

They always started back to back to keep a modicum of their privacy, and in reality, Taako had semi-consciously turned on the bed to imitate this. But on the bed there were barriers, he was on top of the blankets and both of them wore warm and soft pyjamas - in the trance woven memory, skin rubbed on flushed skin, jutting shoulder bones and spines knocking on each other, reassuring each elf of the others continued presence. With a rough sponge they shared, passing to each other with a brush of fingers and thumbs, they shed the dirt of the road until their complexion was clear with a sprinkle of old scars. Then, with the gracefulness of elves and a well practised routine at a silent trigger, Taako swirled around and cupped his hands to bring up heated water to his sister's short hair. A rehearsed sequence, he weaved his fingers through the strands as gently as he could manage, tugging on knots and wringing the water out. Finishing, he left his hands on her head and gently rubbed circles into her scalp as she sighed faintly at the pressure and leaned back an inch into him. She only allowed him to do this for a few minutes, before nudging her head and flicking an ear at his wrist. Again in harmony, they turned and she did the same process for him. His hair was longer - less practical but more distinguished - and she had to undo a braid with the same hands that had entwined it before cupping slightly cooler water over his head. He lifted his chin and let the water run down in rivets down his face. His sister's hands and the water relaxed tense muscles and her fingertips brought gentle shivers down his spine, and he let a slight smile curve the edge of his lips. At the same time, her hands slowed and her thumb echoed the circles he stroked into her scalp earlier. She was smiling at him (gently, soft curves, perhaps even maternally) he knew without even looking, reading the motions of her body as she had to his to find his own smile - perhaps picking up his ears lifting minutely, or the drift of his head resting in the secure, safe, protective palms of his sister. They stayed like that for a while. Eventually, she leant forward and let her arms fall into the lukewarm water, then embraced Taako, holding him around his waist, resting her forehead against his lower neck.

He didn't say a word when he felt cool droplets follow the path of his spine, merely reached for her hand with his eyes closed and gave her knuckles a chaste kiss before holding her lax hand tightly to his chest, over the beat of his heart.

Even as the water cooled to room temperature, they stayed in that entangled position, identical bodies and divergent souls, basking in the temporary safety of the roof over their heads. They were cramped, her knees over her arms nudging into his ribs, and his elbows resting on the sharp metal edge of the tub which encircled them both, and it was wonderful. When she started to doze, head falling to rest on his shoulder, he decided it was about time to get out. In slow dance like gestures, they stepped out, still connected by interlocking elbows, and dried themselves on the old blankets, afterwards holding each other under one. With wood out of a broken box and below what looked like a chimney in a hidden crevice, his sister crafted a fire with elegant fingers and a battered wand and then fell into his arms.

They fell asleep together for the final hours of darkness, head to head, hands clutching, knees knocking knees and ankles overlapping. They slept deeper than trance and at the same time - something they had not done in many months. Temporarily safe and sated with the security that was each other's continued existence, each other's indomitable permanence, each other's inseparable grasp.

Continued existence. Indomitable permanence. Inseparable grasp.

Something turned, unpleasantly, in his mind.

Deeper than trance, fallen into sleep - then suddenly awoken, not in a gnomes burrow but in the shared home of his sister's and his, and their respective partners. 

"You were murmuring for me," She said quietly behind him, resting a couple of fingertips on his shoulder. As if she knew the tension of pressure, of touch - perhaps she did - she probably did, like she knew so long ago that he had been smiling without seeing it. He wondered, not for the first time, how much of that memory was accurate. How much he could rely on the details. It was a long time ago - a dozen handfuls of years, one true and one made-up centuries, and what, ten years? He didn't know how old he was, but his mind was well into his second century. He felt old. "Taako?"

"Oh don't worry Lulu -" she hummed threateningly, joking at the nickname, "- go back to sleep. Chaboy needs more beauty sleep." For a while there was silence, but no movement, so she must have been watching him, evaluating. Her fingers didn't move, becoming an uncomfortable pressure. Unknowingly, his ears inched closer to his head.  
"Guess you do, considering I'm the prettier twin." Despite her taunting words, her tone was solemn and the sickness caused by her hand became less bearable in steady increments as the seconds passed. He really didn't want to deal with this. He was fine leaving this alone - it hadn't caused him much trouble, he lied to himself. She pulled his shoulder and he willingly went with it, falling onto his back with an eyebrow arched. She leant over on an elbow until her hair brushed against his face and he scrunched up his face in disgust, her eyebrow arching in mimicry, teasingly.  
"What's up, bro." and he glanced at her as if to say, 'do you even know me?'. He reached up to put a finger on her nose, and pushed her away - a small contact, little more than a brush, and one that caused distance - and replied;  
"Your ugly mug, hovering over me, sis." and the glare she gave him echoed the ferocity of her evocation magic. He pretended it was because of his pretend insult. A pretend glare for a pretend insult. A pretend face that had an honesty so genuine it made his eyes slip to the side and his hand fall down from her face, just a bit, a gentle curve of skin and bones between their faces. 

Her lip pulled to the side, as she observed him, waiting for his eyes to fall back to her. She was ever so patient now, the most glaring difference between her and the sister he used to know, the brother he used to be, that used to know a sister. Her patience made him gulp and the edges of his mouth quickly twitch and he looked back at her.

He looked into her eyes, one of the few things between them still utterly identical. Him, _average_ , cursed by wonderland. Her, still resplendent, and more feminine too, as she had gained through their stolen century, through magic and medicine. He pushed down the bitter feelings that licked up his throat and pushed up his hand until it found her chin, curling to hold her head. To them both, the touch broke down boundaries that wouldn't have broken otherwise. For her, her eyes closed, and her face crumbled from teasing yet serious, to sombre. For him, a more emotional vulnerability was revealed, the contrast between the poison tingling coating his hand, dripping to his forearm, his elbow - and the relief of her being there, being real, a body so solid and true, a body that held a soul that was tied together so tightly, to sanity and to life, through the love she held for him.

Lup. _Lup._

Lup smiled, gently. Soft curves, gracing her cheeks. An almost maternal smile. A Lup smile. Her hand covered his and he-

And Taako-

"I love you." He choked out, almost silent, but audible in the eerily quiet morning. She, Lup, didn't acknowledge it, knowing her brother, knowing like the back of her hand, like she knew he was allowing her to place her palm on the back of _his_ hand, turning her face into _his_ palm. Lup's whole body curved and softened slightly into the bed.  
"Get under the covers, dingus." She muttered, letting go and pretending she didn't see the minute shake of his hand as if the shake off the feeling of wrongness that he really shouldn't have, something that maybe would be okay with anyone else but not with her, his twin, his sister, _Lup._  
"Fine, goofus." He was too tired to think of a good throwback, but made up for it when he escaped the cold air by burrowing under the covers, then naturally tugged and rolled into three-quarters of it. A silent, playful tussle - one where there was always a few inches of distance between them, but one that wasn't filled with caution, only understanding - and once settled, they found themselves at peace. At least for one more night.

"Lup," he started, then let the name fade into the air.  
"Taako." she finished quietly, and he knew she was wishing him goodnight. And he did; a temporary but good, dreamless, night.

**Author's Note:**

> ill probably write more on this - perhaps confronting stuff like magnus being very touchy feely, maybe sazed too if i wanna hurt taako and myself... and other contradictions like his dependence and independence. but while more may come, if you like this, for now ill mark this fic complete. also everyone else (excluding davenport - but at least he didn't get fake memories?? probably??) got to remember their childhoods - the voidfish altered every single part of Taako's life and thats sad. i know a lot of people have already written about the impact but eventually ill probably write my own interpretation too.  
> uh, anyway. thanks for reading


End file.
